


Free from Shadows

by Greenmanpaints



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Recovery, Slow Build, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenmanpaints/pseuds/Greenmanpaints
Summary: After many long years, Catra has finally bought the run down little bar she grew up in and broken free from the Shadows that held her back.A chance meeting during a party might be the best thing that's ever happened to her but the brighter the light, the deeper the shadows that wait in corners.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	Free from Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Now here is something i haven't done in a long time...
> 
> A long time.
> 
> Seriously i haven't written anything for nearly a decade and it was usually Sci-fi/Fantasy. So doing a modern drama is very much out of my comfort zone.
> 
> Also, my first ever online post. Not just on Ao3 but ever. I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> R.

It wasn’t a particularly good dream but it was hers at least.

But the high pitched, digital screech of her alarm pulled Catra from the sweet embrace of slumber and slapped her in the face with reality. The girl grumbled and buried her head under the thin pillow she slept on and prayed for five more minutes of sleep. The young woman didn’t believe in prayer, not really, and a series of jaunty knocks on her door drove that lack of belief deeper. 

“Hey Wildcat!” The ever happy voice of Scorpia called out. Catra groaned and pulled the old ragtag pillow tighter across her ears. “Busy day today, remember?” A grumbled affirmative and the woman forced herself up. She yawned as her slender feline frame stretched, fingertips to toes with the quiet pop of joints.She stood and swayed before she shuffled across the room and slapped her alarm clock a little too hard before opening her bedroom door. 

An imposing wall of muscle stood before her. Or it would have been imposing were it not for the beaming smile and flowery apron. Heavy muscles strained against the button up black work shirt and she held those large hands in front of her, carrying a white mug that steamed. Catra took a sniff and perked up instantly, her trademark half smirk pulling her lips up. She took a pull of the scalding liquid and languished in the burning taste of bitter coffee. “Thanks,” she grumbled in a raspy voice.

Scorpia puffed up her already impressive figure, almost a full two meters of solid mountain with snow white hair at the peak. She beamed that selfless smile. “You get dressed,” Catra looked down at herself, noting the scruffy tee and shorts she slept in “And I’ll start breakfast.”

Catra grunted another affirmative, downing the rest of her drink and slinking to the small shared bathroom, in their small shared apartment. Feeling more like herself with the caffeine hit, Catra wondered again how Scorpia fit in the tiny shower as she started to brush her teeth. She still wondered daily how she hadn’t pushed the white haired irritant away. Still wondered why she was so lucky to have an amazing friend. 

_ I certainly don’t deserve it…  _ The thought rose before she could stop it.  _ Cruel, vindictive bitch. Just like she was raised. I don’t deserve it.  _ Catra spat out the paste and noted with frustration the blood mixed in from over brushing. “Urgh, fucking…” she caught herself here, early in the spiral for once and calmly placed her brush back in its little holder. She clenched her fist and took long, slow breaths. She focused and tried to remember what Perfuma said; 

“You are worthy of love.” 

She whispered the words into the mirror, watching her mismatched, yellow and blue eyes for any betrayal or lies. She noted the sandy complexion, the old blotches having slowly smoothed with the healthy food and staying hydrated. She started to smile, thinking of Perfuma and Scorpia force feeding her greens. She ran a hand through the massive mane of wild, dark brown hair that puffed out in all directions, hair that begged for a long brush. Catra just tied it back. “You are worthy of happiness.” She stood for a few long minutes, staring herself down. Daring herself to believe the statement. 

*

Catra ate breakfast alone today, Scorpia leaving her with mixed fruit and another coffee before work, but not until after a hug.

She popped a berry into her mouth and looked at the small bar below the small apartment they lived in. HER bar, she thought. From the tacky toilet doors to the wonky pool table that needed refelting, the alcohol stained floors and bar to the dim, cigarette smoke yellow walls. It was hers. She stood slowly, with almost a reverence for the old dump and clapped her hands together. “Time to do some work.” 

Prepping for a party wasn’t something she relished, almost detested if she was being honest, but Catra hadn’t backed down from a challenge for quite a while. Plus, Perfuma had happily agreed to have her birthday here, all to help create a clientele. If Catra hadn’t been as distant in the past, she might have even known the twenty-something people she’d be serving tonight. She might know more of Scorpia’s life beyond what Scorps and her partner had done for her.

Six hours of scrubbing, bleaching the toilets, removing the awful decor and finally bagging that...  _ THING _ from under the pool table had put her in a strangely good mood. Hard, physical labour was something she had come to enjoy. She felt positive at the small steps of progress and when she stopped chiseling gum from under the last table and finally took a break, she felt the smile on her face reach her eyes. This was pride wasn’t it? 

It didn’t look very different but Catra knew the work was there. A grounding layer to start with. A foundation. She checked her phone. Today's mantra of meditation from Perfuma which she ignored, a few check up texts from Scorpia which she read but didn’t reply, an email invoice from the local brewery with a delivery slot a few hours away to which she did. Still, she needed spirits to put behind the bar and some snacks too. She had a portable speaker and a phone to play some music and the bar didn’t have a food license, or even a real kitchen, so at least she wouldn’t have to worry about hiring a cook. 

Her stomach growled at the thought of food and the need for fresh air hit her. She picked up the keys to her battered truck, took one last look around with a smile of content before pushing through the front door and stepping into Brightmoon’s cool, autumn sun.

Salt air greeted her chemically tortured sinuses. Seagulls squawked loudly. Even a few blocks up from the pier their obnoxious calls and large droplets of shit terrorised the town. The battered old truck sat in the alleyway next to Catra's bar and as she walked, she read the old, dirty sign out front. ‘Fright Zone.’ She sneered at it. She needed a new name for the place but between the license changes, informing her distributors, brewery, local council and paying for an actual new sign, it wasn’t high on her priorities. Plus she hadn't thought of a name yet.

She climbed into the dinged up old pickup, brick red and as reliable as Scorpia herself, the old girl had carried Catra for years. She turned the engine over, shifted the grinding gears she knew must be ten years older than she was and pulled out into Brightmoons soft, easy streets. Tree lined roads ambled and turned in a crescent, radiating outwards from the fishing wharf. Tourists came for the vistas and the long pier, trucks came for the bounties of fresh fish from the warehouses. It was one of those towns where you either worked in hospitality or you did what everyone else did. There was a quiet peace here though, one that fit Catra these days. One where she felt safe. 

She trundled along almost gently, tapping the wheel with one hand whilst leaning an elbow out the window. It wasn’t a large town, and was small enough that she had to wave politely at a few people she saw. Just a small raise of the hand, a quick nod. She passed the office where her roommate worked, the tallest one in town, and reminded herself to message Scorpia when she pulled up. 

It didn’t take long to arrive at the wholesalers. A square plain building painted a garish yellow with a parking lot that could likely hold most of the cars in town and today it could well have done. She pulled up far from the door, one of the few spaces open on both sides of the old truck. She had her id, membership card and business card, she had the ratty old leather jacket she kept on the passenger seat and she had a list. A truck, probably filled with todays catch, honked at her and she replied with a wave at the unseen driver. Catra watched her hand wave, then stop. “I’m getting soft.”

She pulled out her phone and fired Scorpia a quick message, “ _ I’m ok. Getting some supplies from Salinieas. See you later.“  _ It was more than she used to send and she ignored the response that came in under a minute later. Just smiled, though the smile fell when she entered the store. Tourist season was coming and every minor hotel, restaurant and cafe must have had the same idea she did. Bodies were packed and pressed, pushing carts loaded with whatever was needed to run a coastal town business. Already Catra’s nerves frayed. She felt the yellow eye twitch and a migraine start behind the blue. She muttered and cursed under her breath as a number of sharp “Excuse me!” were hollered down full aisels. 

She felt the stress rising as she laboured over two different vodkas, the bumbling idiot behind her nearly knocking both bottles from her hands. At the gin, an older woman with upturned nose and hair too neat to be real pulled a bottle from Catra’s cart, making the young woman backtrack to replace it.  _ Breathe, 1 2 3, 1 2 3…  _ The rum and whiskey went down without too much issue but she skipped the tequila for today, the press was getting to her. She had a decent starting collection for now, not ideal but she still needed bar snacks to make the punters thirsty.

Nuts, potato chips, some chocolate for the rare person she actually liked. She was browsing down the last aisle she had planned to visit when something caught her eye. A skinny boy with scruffy blonde hair was offering out free samples from behind a popup stand. As Catra passed he caught her eye.

“Catra! Want to try some kale chips? One hundred percent vegan and good for you too!”

“Ha!” The scoff visibly made the kid wince, “Struggling to push ‘em Kyle?”

There was the dramatic dropping of the arms Catra expected and the groan “Yeah, they aren’t very popular.” She popped a chip into her mouth and nearly spat it back out, eyes scrunched in disgust. Kyle laughed and his large eyes shined. “That’s what everyone says too.” 

She lowered the two tone glare at him but a thought held her back from being snarky. “How much for a box?”

Surprise vegan treats for the hippy girl. That can be her birthday present. 

She queued for longer than she wanted and spent more than she planned. She loaded the truck and checked her phone. She still had time to kill and should probably eat before she got back to the bar.  _ Self care and all that.  _

*

Catra had a spot she liked. She pulled up nearby the wharf and walked a few minutes until she hit the pier. Old Razz was selling her pies in a little stall set into an old facade on the front, all run down looking and surely ready to fall apart from the inside out. It still did solid business somehow. Catra spotted the somewhat senile old woman handing over extra pie to a bewildered customer.

“Go on! Take the extra. Madame Razz insists.” Her voice was firm but had a soft, gentle croak that came with decades of caring for others. Her wild hair and too large glasses made her look almost inhuman and the stoop she’d developed over the years had lowered her eyeline to only just above the counter of her stall. Still, it was clear she was smiling and the customer thanked her and scurried off. Razz adjusted her glasses as Catra slinked up, hands in jacket pockets and cocky smile on her face. “Ah dearie!” She exclaimed and scurried from behind the counter. She pulled the young woman into a tight hug and lifted her bodily from the ground, spinning her and Catra couldn’t help but laugh. “You look so healthy. You should visit Madame Razz more often!”

Not having the heart to tell Razz she was here last week, Catra allowed herself to be pulled towards the baked goods. Her own voice had its usual, raspy quality but it smoothed a little with the old lady. “I know, I know.” She caught sight of Swiftwind in the back, as ever watching over his Grandmother. She nodded at him and got a friendly wave in return. Razz was busy getting back behind the counter.

“Well what can we get you, sweet Catra?” The selection of savouries was mouthwatering, perfect golden crusts, steamy fillings and now she was closer, oh by the sweet sunrise it smelt good. For years Catra had been almost anti-food. She ate what she needed to survive and suffered for it. Now, she had a quiet passion for it. She ordered herself a large slice of steak and ale pie and heard her stomach growl in excitement.

Swiftwind took over to make the order up, letting Razz dilly dally with her broom. She swept the pier front dutifully and waved at a young couple who strolled past. She squinted at the young woman waiting for the pie.“You grow taller every time I see you, dearie.” She ceased in her brushing for a moment “Not as tall as Mara though.”

Catra glanced over to the 6 meter tall statue of Mara, set slightly back from the seafront, nestled in her own little boulevard of paths and benches. “I don’t think many people are Razz.” She laughed to herself as Razz swiped at her with the broom before she considered it.

“Maybe your friend. Big one. White hair and kind eyes.” 

_ Damn, Razz knows everyone!  _ “You mean Scorpia? Yeah she is pretty big. Wouldn’t be surprised really.”

“Ah,” Wistfully Razz looked back at the statue. “Dear Mara.” She cocked an eye at Catra, “She gets lonely. You should talk to her.” 

“Yeah,” Everyone knew the old lady was a bit nutty, but she had some strange insights. Her wisdom had guided Catra through some dark times, even if she didn’t realise it at the time. “Yeah no problem. I’ll keep her company for a bit. I have to open the bar soon and stuff.”

“Ah a special day.” Razz scratched at a stray few hairs on her wrinkled chin as she pushed the broom at Catra and sat on a bench. Without thinking, Catra started sweeping.“It’s a birthday today.”

“Yeah.” Catra watched a boat pull into a jetty. “I mean, she’s not really my friend. But i’m trying to be less of a bitch these days, and she matters to Scorpia so…”

“Hmmm,” Razz said sagely but said no more. She just smiled and watched Catra sweep.

“Razz?” she asked as Swiftwind finished bagging up her pie.

“Hmm?”

“This is a weird way to teach me karate.”

“I know.”

*

She took her food from Swiftwind, slipping a note and letting him keep the change. Grabbing a wooden fork, she gave Razz a hug as those magnified eyes stared longingly at the statue again. 

“I’ll make sure Mara isn’t lonely.”

“Thank you dearie.” She placed a hand on Catra’s. “And don’t worry. A name will come. Mara will help.”

This was one of Catra’s spots. It wasn’t the quiestt, people moved through the garden almost constantly. It was a crossing point of lives. The gulls shrieked and the waves crashed, locals and tourists gathered here, beneath Mara’s protection. ‘A heart of Etheria” Razz called it. Catra found peace here. Ever since she arrived in Brightmoon, all those years ago. Being herded off that boat with  **those** hands digging into her shoulder, the first thing she saw was Mara. This statue of brass, watching over the coast to protect those who come to find peace. 

She took a bite of pie and looked at the guardian all over again. Sword held firmly but not aggressively. Strong shoulders, long hair and a steel resolve in those metal eyes. Strangely, nothing has made her feel as safe as sitting here with this inanimate object. The plaque below was a simple affair. Brass like the statue and witten in a plain text;

MARA

OUR SHE-RA

“Y’know,” Catra began, “It’s been a strangely good day. So far that is. Got a whole  _ thing _ tonight. Hippy girls birthday. Bar’s only been mine a week and already have to host a party.” She contemplated her next words carefully, over another bite. A seagull got shooed away with a gentle nudge of a boot. “I dunno. I like her actually. Perfuma that is. She makes Scorp happy and we2ll, she deserved a better friend than me for a long time and now she has one. Perfuma treats her right and after all the things I put her through...” She faded off and couldn’t meet the statue's eyes. 

“Stupid that she stuck around. Worse that she agreed to live with me. ‘I will  **ALWAYS** look after my friends,’” she mocked but her heart wasn’t in it. “They’d probably have their own place by now. Be a happy little family.” It sounded more bitter than she meant it. “ Is it selfish I’m glad she stayed with me?” She looked up for an answer, a reproach. She found no judgement in Mara, just a quiet acceptance. She ate a few more bites quietly. “I’ll try and be a better friend for them.” 

Catra ate the rest of her pie in silence. She checked her phone, she had enough time to get back before the delivery but it was indeed time to head out. She binned her rubbish and shrugged at Mara. “Thanks for the talk.” Shaking her head at her own creeping insanity, she ruffled her long hair and set off home. 

*

Scorpia and Perfuma had a lot of friends. Catra half expected a somewhat quieter affair, perhaps a dozen people or so. Enough to keep her occupied but not rushed off her feet either. She should have known better. She’d neglected to hire anyone to help tend the bar, preparing a night more akin to the flowery birthday girl. The usually serene and zen Perfuma was surrounded by her colourful best friends, atop of the wobbly pool table. Singing. Badly. 

But there were always at least ten of their friends crowding the old bar and at least two dozen circulating the floor and relaxing in the booths or at the standing tables. They were loud, friendly, almost all pastel coloured and not once did they order anything off tap. A few old fashions, a couple gin and tonics, a pitcher or two of moscow mules; Catra figured they were great profit makers but she could pull four pints in the same time and serve the next obnoxiously happy person. Sure, Scorpia had offered to help but that stubborn side of Catra just levelled an eye at her best friend.

“Go dance with your girlfriend.”

Scorpia looked over at the dancing girl and blushed. “Well, I don’t want you missing out on…”

“Just go.” Catra kept smiling as she rattled the ice shaker. “I’m having fun, I promise. The mark up on these drinks is gonna buy me a new bed.” She caught the disgruntled eye of her current customer and raised an eyebrow in challenge. She poured the sickly sweet concoction with a lazy grace and her trademark aloofness. Not many people received the same softness Scorps and Razz did. “Besides, if you stay behind the bar any longer I'll have to pay you.”

Muttering her endless apologies she left, Catra watched her lift Perfuma in a tight hug before focusing on her next customer. Lots of pink, violet eyes and glitter  _ EVERYWHERE. _ “What can I get ya, Sparkles?”

So on she went,dancing between rapidly dwindling bottles of spirits and liquors. More than once she’d sent one of the Princesses, Perfuma’s “dearest and most cherished friends”. to restock. Usually Sparkles, or Glimmer to use her real name. The pink pipsqueak saw everything as a mission and dragged her partner in crime, Bow along, both of them talking strategy about best routes and prices before Catra practically kicked them out the door. 

Music pumped, not nearly as loud as a real club but loud enough to drown out conversations Catra didn't want to hear, but she kept an eye on the proceedings all the same when she got a moment. Seahawk was telling tales to anyone who would listen. Entrapta was watching everyone with rapt attention, ever the people watcher. Scorpia was making doe eyes and holding her lady steady. People were constantly approaching their space and saying undoubtedly nice things about them both. Catra couldn’t blame them, they were genuinely the best people she knew. 

“Hey, Psycho!” Glimmer smirked a playful challenge. Catra threw a sour faced glare but the pink princess didn’t flinch. They’d exchanged enough blows over the years to know when a real fight was brewing. 

“I’m busy.” The reply was sharp, “You want another tooth-rotter, you gotta wait.”

A high pitched bark of a laugh opened the reply. “I have a friend coming! Do you need them to get anything for you?” Catra looked suspicious for a moment, then checked the time, then the shelves. 

“Couple bottles of vodka, some Jack and a decent gin if they can afford all that.” Glimmer was about to speak before Catra cut her off, “Don’t worry I’ll pay them back.”

“I meant for you, not the bar, idiot!” Glimmer laughed. “But I’ll let her know.” She whipped out a glitter cased phone and sauntered back to the other princesses, leaving Catra to continue her struggles. 

Although, Catra noted, she wasn’t struggling. Yes she was busy, couldn’t take a moment to herself but the constant work, the catty banter and the constant movement felt good. Similar to when she finished cleaning, she felt a sense of pride. Pride that she was doing it. Pride that she had come so far and dragged herself, kicking and screaming through. That bitch was gone. Hopefully for good and Catra for the first time in twenty eight years, could finally start to live. 

She had just passed a drink down the bar, Old West slide style, to Mermista when a cheer ruptured through the bar. Through the throng, Catra watched the princesses swarm the door and envelope someone in hugs, affection and a sickly amount of love. Curiosity was eating at her now. Just who could hold the attention of every one of Scorpia’s eccentric, brightly coloured and eclectic friends. Even the usually stoic Mermista had a smile on her face and Entrapta had stopped whatever she was doing with that light fitting to join the scrum. 

She forced herself to wait. Ignoring the guy trying to flag her down for a drink. Slowly the figure extracted itself from the gaggle of colours and Catra took a moment to look this new woman up and down. She was surprised by the simple clothing. A beige turtleneck sweater hung smoothly to what was clearly an athletic, toned frame. The upper sleeves clutched to biceps like a second skin and the thighs of her stonewashed jeans were stretched tight over powerful muscles. She wasn’t as built as Scorpia but she had a power about her. Practical boots clomped on the wood floor. She stumbled and Catra was about to reach out from across the entire room to catch her when Bow caught her. The woman's long hair fell over her face like a veil and when the blonde locks parted, they finally locked eyes.

  
  


Blue, she noted dumbly. Not just blue, but clean, clear blue. Like the pale sky in spring. Her heart beat faster as she stared openly, watching the other woman's face blush slightly before she smiled. Catra smiled back at a complete stranger and that was unheard of. She thanked Mara quietly that she wasn’t one for blushing as Blondie hefted bags of bottles Catra hadn't even noticed and approached. Should she serve someone? Wait? Catra didn’t know and before she could decide a dozen bottles of liquor were deposited on the bar. The clumsy rattle of glass on glass snapped Catra from her trance.

“One delivery mission completed,” the woman spoke. It was confident and clear and up close, the smile was dazzling. “Where do you want ‘em?” 

“Just there is fine.” Catra tried her best to throw those defences back up, but each look they shared battered them back down. She chose to go professional. “What do I owe you?” She moved to the till but was stopped with a dismissive wave.

“It was nothing. Call it a thanks for hosting.” That damn smile hadn’t faltered but Catra noted with a smirk those baby blues had just rolled her up and down and damn if that didn’t make Catra’s night. The narcissist in her knew she looked good. Her tight black jeans and maroon button up shirt were a killer combo and she’d unbuttoned enough to show a sliver of collar bone. 

“It wasn’t nothing.” 

“Well it wasn’t difficult then.” She rested her chin on a fist, still smiling at Catra as the bartender came close to move the bottles. 

“I think some of your friends would’ve struggled.” The smile flickered briefly and a sensation shot through Catra she wasn’t used to. “Because it’s heavy.” She covered smoothly. It wasn’t  _ UN _ -true she reasoned and the smile came right back. 

“CAN I GET A DRINK ALREADY!” Catra whirled with a hiss, hair standing on end. The woman chuckled and pushed away from the bar. Catra watched her step backwards, stumble and nearly fall. 

Blushing, the blonde laughed. “Just buy me a drink later.” She actually winked at Catra, face beet red and eyes shining. “I’m Adora.”


End file.
